


(You) Blew (Me) Away

by spookalicious



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Awkward First Meeting?, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 18:50:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6869170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookalicious/pseuds/spookalicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank hears his neighbor singing a song he knows, and decides to play a little guitar along to it. His neighbor hears and stops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(You) Blew (Me) Away

**Author's Note:**

> Title based off the song by The Smashing Pumpkins, 'Blew Away'.  
> Fic is based off a prompt I read.

            “Another shitty day to another shitty existence, huh, girl?” Frank asked his dog as he stepped into his apartment, heaving a big sigh and going to sit on the ragged couch in his living room. His dog, Baby, came up to him and pawed at his pants, wanting to be picked up. He rolled his eyes, but smiled and picked her up, petting her softly when she situated herself in his lap.

            Frank had always hated his job, but today had to have been the worst. He’d just been ‘laid off’ due to ‘lack of company funding’. Which, to Frank, meant he won’t have a phone after this next week. Fuck. His mom’d kill him if he missed a call.

            After a few minutes of just sitting and relaxing with Baby, Frank had her move off his lap and got up to go see what he’d be living off of food-wise until he got a new job. He opened the fridge and sighed. A few veggies that he was sure were close to rotting, and some lunch meat (he didn’t dare look at the expiration date on that). At least he had bread in the pantry.

            Frank hummed softly to himself, and started heading to his bathroom to shower, when the loveliest voice came through the walls, singing a simple tune. Frank smiled at this. His neighbor sang all the time. Mostly, it was songs he didn’t know, but it was still nice to listen to on bad days. He’d never met said neighbor, and he doubted they knew he could hear them when they sang. He doubted they even knew he was next door.

            Frank paused in the doorway, listening to the song, trying to place it. No luck, though. Another tune he didn’t recognize. And honestly, Frank was a little surprised at the songs his neighbor sang – he knew a fair amount of music himself. Sometimes he’d hear them singing familiar songs – like things from the Smiths.

            The voice paused suddenly, and Frank frowned. He was enjoying that song. He moved closer to the wall – maybe they had just quieted down a bit. Still nothing. He shrugged it off and started heading back towards the bathroom, but froze when the voice picked up again, singing a new song this time. Frank listened intently, and very quickly picked up on the lyrics. He knew this song. Shit, he knew this song _well_.

            “ _And if you love her, you know it will come true_ ,”

            He knew this song _so_ well, that he played it on his guitar. He thought for a moment, listening, before going and grabbing it, bringing it and the amp into the living room. He plugged it in and turned the volume up just slightly. He listened to the voice, trying to place the verse, before starting to play softly along with the lyrics.

           “ _I said blew, and please don’t ever leave_ ,”

            After a moment of this, though, the voice stopped again very suddenly. Frank stopped playing, looking up to the wall, as if he’d see someone there.

            He waited patiently for the voice to pick back up again, but instead heard a door slam. Ouch. Touchy.

            Frank sighed and put his guitar away. So much for making music friends.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

            A few days passed, and Frank trudged up to his apartment, defeated. Another day of bad interviews. His mom really was going to kill him. He leaned against the wall by his door and sighed, pulling out his pack of cigarettes and placing one of them between his lips, fumbling around his pockets for his lighter.

            He found it, thankfully, and lit up, breathing in deep. Fuck, he needed that. He leaned his head against the wall as he blew the smoke out, taking a deep breath of fresh air instead this time.

            Footsteps could be hear from the other side of the hallway, and Frank turned his head to look, curious. The man heading his way was taller than him, obviously, but not by much. He had a unique build – feminine, yet masculine. Frank liked his hair best. Long and dark, brushing just over his shoulders. Frank watched him, taking another drag of his cigarette.

            It wasn’t until the other man put the key in the lock to the apartment next to Frank’s that it clicked in his head. /He’s the one that sings/.

            After that realization, it wasn’t until the other man looked towards Frank questioningly and spoke up that Frank remembered the burning cigarette in his hand.

            “Can I help you?”

            Frank opened his mouth, only to close it again, surprised and very much lost on words. He wanted to say something, maybe sorry for frightening him the other day with his guitar, or for staring at him the way he was. That might be the best start.

            Instead, Frank just looked like an idiot.

            The guy looked fed up, and moved to head into his apartment, shaking his head.

            Frank spoke up then. “I’m sorry about the other day!”

            The dark haired man poked his head out the door at that. “Pardon?”

            “I, uh… You were singing,” Frank started, scuffing his shoe on the cigarette he’d just dropped, putting it out. He looked up at the man standing in front of his apartment now, whose cheeks just turned the darkest red Frank had seen in a while.

            “Oh, um. Yeah, I, uh, didn’t know anyone could hear me…” He stated, looking down immediately, embarrassed now.

            Frank just gave a small smile, stepping forward towards the other, extending his hand. “I’m Frank. I think you sound really good.”

            The man looked up at him, surprised, and stared at Frank’s hand for a moment before it seemed like common sense kicked into gear and he shook it with his own, nodding once. “Gerard. You, uh, you play really well. The guitar, I mean.”

            Frank grinned at that. “Thanks, man.”


End file.
